


here among the daffodils

by Sway



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Background James | Lancelot/Percival (Kingsman), F/F, Hary and Merlin are idiots, Kingsman Weddings, M/M, Painted Petals Fest, Photographer!merlin, background Eggsy/Tequila, background Roxy/Tilde, baker!eggsy, florist!harry, matchmaker!Eggsy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-13 14:22:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14114247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sway/pseuds/Sway
Summary: On a drunken night out - exactly how drunk neither of them wanted to admit - the idea was born.Kingsman Weddings.It had taken everybody all of about 3.5 seconds to know that Hamish loved Harry and Harry loved Hamish.Everybody knew. Except for those two. Obviously.





	here among the daffodils

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know what this is. I have no excuse and no explanantion. Inspired by the amazing fic that AgentStannerShipper wrote, this was born. It's nowhere near done and it might take some time while I plow through my KBB but.. I wanted to get this out in time.
> 
> The title is from "fascinated" by Train.

London is a village. Well, a village with 8+ million inhabitants but still a village. As with any other city, there were certain communities where everybody knew each other and everybody had worked with everybody at least once.

The close-knit community of high end wedding planning was no exception. Since the customers demanded a certain standard of quality and discretion, the network of business contacts was tightly woven.

Everything had started when Alistair Morton had taken the mantle of the Kingsman Tailors. For the first time in... well, ever... the place had begun to sell wedding suits. Ever since same sex marriage had become legal in the UK, the demand for bespoke suits for such an occasion had more than doubled. Naturally.

Soon enough Alistair's niece Roxy had joined the business, first to run the office, then she had proven her eye for fabrics and begun to advice the more indecisive customers.

That's when Eggsy had come into play. He and Roxy had partnered up for a London Rat Race. The strain of the all-over-the-city obstacle course had them form a close bond quite quickly. That he was amazing baker and mastered in the most luxurious cakes had been pure chance.

On a drunken night out - exactly how drunk neither of them wanted to admit - the idea was born.

Kingsman Weddings.

Alistair had threatened to disown Roxy on the spot but didn’t really have a leg to stand on when she had not so subtly pointed out the silver band on his finger, James’ long given promise to make an honest man out of him at some point.

From there on out, an avalanche had been kicked off. 

Roxy’s college friend Amelia had whipped up a website in record time, advertising their services. 

Finding a contract photographer hadn’t been hard either. Hamish Munro usually did the photos for the Kingsman website and catalogue, and while he did have a bit of a drill instructor to him, his pictures always turned out amazing, no matter the motive or conditions. Which had long since earned him the forever stuck nickname of Merlin.

James turned out to have a talent at location scouting and hackling the best of deals. 

With all these puzzle pieces in place, all they had needed was a florist. They had tried various high end places but none seem to work. Either the prices were too high even for their customers or the florists didn’t listen to their wishes and requirements. 

Again, luck - and a little bit of googling on Eggsy’s part - had helped. On one of his runs, Eggsy had discovered the little shop just off Portobello Road and had simply been enthralled by all the colors and scents. The place was packed to the brim with flowers, already pre-arranged bouquets or sorted by types and colors. 

The owner, one Harry Hart, hadn’t been very keen on the idea at first but - as Roxy so fittingly put it - nobody could resist Eggsy’s charm for too long and he had agreed to a first meeting with the rest of their enterprise.

It had taken everybody all of about 3.5 seconds to know that Hamish loved Harry and Harry loved Hamish. 

Everybody knew. Except for those two. Obviously.

 

*

“Are we all set for the Gilmore’s wedding this weekend?” Roxy looks around the table - she yet refuses to call it the Round Table but Eggsy is working on that - and has everybody look at the printed itinerary. 

“Cook’s going to let me use their freezer for the cake so that’ll be all aces.” Eggsy tips his snapback in a mock salute and leans back in his chair. 

“I’ll take my equipment to the hotel the day before. Maybe I can get a few shots of the venue before the guests come in,” Merlin checks off his proverbial box. 

Harry tsks. “I suggest you wait with that until I’ve set up the flowers. Your pictures might be a bit dull without them.”

“I would if you were ever on time, Harry,” Merlin shoots back, not looking up from his clipboard. 

“You two need to get a room,” James murmurs under this breath. “In fact, I know a hotel that’s…”

“That is enough,” Roxy cuts him off. “I see everything is under control. Now all I have to do is talk Bridezilla off of any possible ledges. I love my job.” She closes her binder with a little more force than necessary. “You’re dismissed.”

While the other men filter out of the room above the tailor shop, Eggsy stays behind. “You know you sound an awful lot like you’re running some sort of secret ops, right?”

“Believe me, sometimes it does feel like it.”

“So what are we going to do about Harry and Merlin?” Eggsy cuts right to the chase. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Eggsy snorts at that.

“Unless you’re talking about the somewhat tragic, somewhat cute kind of thing they’ve got going that neither of them wants to admit it,” Roxy continues unperturbed.

“If all them big words mean that they’re totally smitten with each other but won’t have a go at it, then yes. That’s what I’m talking about. What are we going to do about it?”

Roxy frowns at him. “Do we have to do something about it? It’s not exactly our business.”

“Oh but it is our business, Rox. I can’t have them pining over each other any longer. Or even worse, the bickering. It’s like the Golden Girls but in a bad way.”

“And what do you suggest we do?”

Eggsy shrugs. “Easy. We get them to hook up.”

“You didn’t just say that.”

He beams at her. “Sure did. Come on, Rox. Tell me you’re not sick and tired of them traipsing around each other like that. We’re doing everybody a favor.”

“We’re wedding planners, Eggsy. Not matchmakers.”

“Details,” he scofs. “Also you gotta give me credit. I got you and Tilde to hook up, too, and she’s the bloody princess of bloody Sweden.”

Roxy blushes violently, her shoulders sagging. “Point taken. What do you have in mind?”

Eggsy steeples his fingers like he’s some old-school Bond villain. “Let me worry about that.”

Roxy pinches the bridge of her nose. “Why does that sound like an awful lot of trouble.”


End file.
